


All Of You

by kronette



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 12:06:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16912575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kronette/pseuds/kronette
Summary: Will and Hannibal, New Year's in New York City. I almost always write a story about John Lennon or his music on December 8, and since I was just in NY before Thanksgiving, this idea came to me.Hannibal’s hands, hands that had snapped necks and tenderly treated wounds, skating over his skin like it was the finest linen, reverently and with purpose.Now that Will had unleashed Hannibal’s restraint, he needed to direct it, claim it as his own. “I want,” he whispered between hungry kisses. “I want…”





	All Of You

Will hadn’t asked the cost of the hotel on Times Square for the last week in December, nor did he care. What mattered were his plans for the evening. 

Dinner was a formal, elaborate affair at a high end restaurant, in deference to Hannibal’s sensibilities, since it was Will’s decision to be in New York for New Year’s. 

Will had learned long ago that Hannibal would do _anything_ for him, but he used that power sparingly, wanting to savor those moments like the fine wine in his hand. 

Music from the performers and cheers from the crowd had been growing steadily as the clock crept closer to midnight. Will had pried open the window to let in the sounds, stoic in his stance against the cold night air. 

Will felt Hannibal at his side and absently handed over his wine glass, to be replaced with a champagne flute. “Three minutes,” Hannibal observed as his hand slid around Will’s waist. 

Will inhaled slowly and let himself relax into the gesture. It was too new; too bright, too overwhelmingly _intimate_ , yet it was what fueled Will’s desire for this night and this city. Hannibal’s light touches had stirred Will’s feelings for him in a new way, Bedelia’s question constantly ringing in his head: _but do you ache for him?_

The answer had taken a long time to come and then to accept. Now it was time to embrace it. As the ball dropped and the crowd went wild, Will turned and pressed a soft kiss to Hannibal’s lips. 

Hannibal looked more shocked than Will had envisioned, when he let his imagination run wild with possibilities. Will placed his glass on the nearby table and rested his hand on Hannibal’s chest, thumbing at the open collar of his shirt. “It was my imagination that captured your attention. My imagination that roused your compassion for me.” 

Flashing lights distorted Hannibal’s wonderous expression, but nothing shone brighter than his eyes, hopeful and desirous and terrified.

Will felt calmness settle over him as he slid his hand up along Hannibal’s throat to cup the back of his neck. “My mind put up blockers of denial and indecency whenever I tried to imagine us on the run. Two years have proven to me that we can cohabitate without injury to each other’s bodies or minds. I was content with that until I wasn’t.” 

Hannibal’s hands tightened on his waist; Will hadn’t even felt their presence until then, so focused on the minute expressions that told him everything of Hannibal’s state of mind. Disbelief and hope. So much _hope_. 

And Will wasn’t unaffected, the positive emotions that he hadn’t associated with Hannibal before now finally allowed to bloom, to surface. To be seen. “You forced me to embrace the parts of me that I wanted to keep in the dark. You dragged them into the light and showed me that they weren’t ugly. That they could be beautiful.” 

Tears stood in Hannibal’s eyes, a testament to how little Will had said about his own emotional state in their two years together. But Will had learned to be cautious, to be deliberate and thoughtful and _sure_ before broaching any subject with Hannibal. 

Will’s hand spread out over the small of Hannibal’s back, anchoring him in place as sure as if he’d bound Hannibal with chains. He squeezed lightly at the back of Hannibal’s neck as he quietly admitted, “I saw beauty in your art. Terrible, dark beauty twisted out of the cruelty of others. I see you, Hannibal. I know you. I’ve imagined what it would be like to know all of you.” 

As the crowd’s song forced itself into their cocoon of warmth, Will professed, “I don’t want to imagine any more,” before sliding his lips over Hannibal’s. 

The slow, steady ember that had been thrumming in Will’s chest all day flared to a hot flame, consuming them both as they consumed each other, a new and yet comforting feeling, as if they were two halves of a broken soul rejoining. 

Without letting go—Will _never_ intended to let go—he maneuvered them to the plush bed and laid Hannibal back on it. Still kissing, learning each other in an entirely new and exciting and _mindblowing_ way, Will started to undo Hannibal’s vest. 

It wasn’t until he was halfway done with his clumsy one-handed attempt that he realized Hannibal had already pulled his shirt out of his pants and was stroking up his back, beneath his shirt.

Hannibal’s hands, hands that had snapped necks and tenderly treated wounds, skating over his skin like it was the finest linen, reverently and with purpose. 

Now that Will had unleashed Hannibal’s restraint, he needed to direct it, claim it as his own. “I want,” he whispered between hungry kisses. “I want…”

“Anything,” was Hannibal’s urgent and immediate response, a bit wild as his desire took over. “You only have to ask, Will.” 

Maintaining eye contact, Will dragged his palm down Hannibal’s side, around his hipbone and squeezed his ass. “I want all of you,” he declared. 

Will nearly lost himself in the vortex of _need_ , spiraling down and down until their desires were one. 

“I want all of you,” Hannibal echoed before devouring his mouth and rolling them over, pressing Will deeper into the duvet as if he could merge their bodies simply by that act alone. 

Not to be deterred from his plan, Will took control, rolling them back over and biting gently at Hannibal’s throat. “The second I’m done, I want you in me. Is that understood?” 

Hannibal’s eyes had shifted to an infinite darkness, with their own unique light shining through. “I will do my best to please you.” 

Will’s lips soothed the reddened skin, tongue outlining the mark he’d made. “Always,” he breathed. 

The intimacy of their bodies wasn’t as devastating as the intimacy of their minds while their bodies were joined. Will would forget to move, lost to the naked emotions ravaging Hannibal’s expressions. Or Hannibal would still him, clutching at his shoulders, only the sounds of their breathing stirring the air between them. 

When his body’s demands finally overtook him, when Will’s mind couldn’t comprehend another level of pleasure, he succumbed to his orgasm, clinging to Hannibal like a second skin. 

It was several moments before Will was gently turned over, even more gently prepared, and then his world was turned upside down as Hannibal penetrated him. Battered between the physical pleasure and the intense connection of their minds, Will could only dig his fingers into Hannibal’s skin and trust that he wouldn’t be destroyed by their joining. 

Sharp, bright pain dragged him out of the haze of pleasure, bringing Hannibal back into focus. Blood stained his lips and Will felt an answering throb in his shoulder. Too blissed out to care about another scar or Hannibal’s need to _taste_ him, Will pressed their mouths together.

A particularly brutal thrust jarred their mouths apart, and another, and another, until Will’s nails drew blood on Hannibal’s shoulders and his mind whited out as he came again, feeling/sensing/tasting Hannibal’s orgasm merging with his own. 

Will refused to let go. Hannibal still had a firm grip on his ass, where he’d angled Will to the best position to thoroughly take him apart. Will’s palm was clammy on the back of Hannibal’s neck as he pulled him down for another kiss, now sated and lingering. 

The change in angle was unpleasant but Will still refused to let go, crossing his ankles at the small of Hannibal’s back to keep him from moving away. “Don’t you dare,” he ordered between light kisses. 

“Never,” Hannibal promised, rolling them to their sides to get more comfortable. 

The crowd and the cold were forgotten as they drowsed and kissed; the new year had only just begun.

The End


End file.
